Dying Dreams
by shizune
Summary: Depressing little prequel to Dancing in the Pale Light. The War was made up of an endless progression of bad times, Luna decided.


Note: Not mine. Not happy. Various pairings are hinted at, but none really all that specifically, and they don't really matter. This is a prequel, of sorts, to my fic Dancing in the Pale Light; it gives away a bit of information about things that are in the background in that story. Really, this is just a series of four ficlets, but they are connected, sort of.

* * *

It was no real surprise for a girl who had just lost her mum to have nightmares about her losses. It might, however, be a surprise to some just what the contents of those nightmares were, for the girl was dreaming of other losses; four others, in particular.

* * *

A battleground, with surprisingly few on either side lost thus far. Both were depending on their leaders; those destined to fight one another. They were the champions of the day, it seemed to Luna, and while she could see that Harry must have been training quite hard for this day, Voldemort was obviously better. The rest of the fighting had died down as those two had drawn together, and though she was too far off to really hear what was said, she too was merely watching, rather than pressing any sort of advantage.

She watched, a small smile of triumph coming to her face as Harry finally drove his sword into the villain's heart, sending the mad lord to the next adventure at last.

Her smile remained, through her surprise, as a green bolt caught the triumphant hero in the back, and Harry fell on top of his vanquished foe.

The Order, and the sundry others on the side of the light, such as herself, retreated in disarray, shocked at the betrayal in spite of both side's leader's deaths.

Several months passed, and war went in earnest, some victories, many defeats.

* * *

"Luna, you need to come out of there and let me help you!" came Hermione's loud, rather insistent voice. Luna sighed, continuing to examine the cut on her check in the mirror, before eventually waving her wand to unlock the door and allow the other girl into the bathroom.

"Oh.. Luna, you have to stop this. You can't keep doing these missions; you're going to get yourself killed, you know. I realize that Grimble told Moody you were the best of us for this work, but you can't do ALL of it!"

"It's important that it's done, right..? We need someone who can manage it, and being able to move within wards is a big advantage. And I've picked up his skills better than you, or Ginny, or any of the others." Luna stood still, allowing Hermione to work her wand over the cut. "Just as you've picked up on Madam Pomfrey's better than me." Which was an understatement; Luna did not have the right mentality at all for medicine, and while Hermione was not Ginny's match at the art, she was quite decent at it.

"Luna... you can't be the ONLY person taking killing missions. Even if you're not killed, it'll do something to your heart, if you do enough of it."

"It does something to your heart to do it once. After that, it's not so bad. Better that I save you and the others from having to do it... Where is Ginny, anyway?"

"Oh, morning sickness, you know. I'm quite happy for her, but it makes it a little hard to work with her. I think she said she was going to sit in the living room and read, after that."

"Right. Well, why don't we get her and..." Luna's next suggestion was cut off by a piercing howl of pain, coming from the direction of the living room. Luna Apparated immediately to Ginny's side, much too late. Ginny was slumped, lifelessly, on a chair, an envelope clutched in her hand. Luna looked rather carefully sideways at it, recognizing the writing as Charley Weasley's. She stayed silent as Hermione rushed there, and diagnosed the envelope officially as cursed.

She helped get the word to Ronald, naturally, to warn him that his sister was dead and his last surviving family member was clearly held by the enemy, and likely dead by now as well.

* * *

While Luna had often felt like she would drown in blood, she'd never meant it quite so literally. She knelled over Neville, cradling his head in her arms, his chest and stomach a mess.

Why did Gryffindors have such a heroic streak in them? He should have known that the curse would never hit her, not interposed himself between it and her. And yet, Luna could hardly bring herself to berate him. He'd kept his feet and distracted the Death Eaters while she'd gotten behind them and done her thing, and he was hardly going to repeat the mistake...

"Did... did you get her?" Of course, that was why he'd made the mistake. It had been the woman he'd hated above all others. And so, Luna simply made herself smile down at him, nodding in response. "...I did, but your slicing hex might have killed her first, anyway." If it had hit, it might have.

"...Th.. Thank you, Luna. Please... take care of Ron and Hermione. They deserve..." And Neville fell silent, going still in her arms. Luna shut her eyes, clutching him tightly, before Apparating herself and Neville's body back home.

* * *

For a 'last battle', they were awfully low on troops on both sides, Luna thought. Particularly hers. The four Order members that were left did not an army make, and yet... The Death Eaters were down to, by her count, seven, and surprise was on the Order's side.

As, of course, was she.

Luna conjured her favorite knife, waiting on Moody's instructions, and nodded as he signaled to her. Fifty two meters that way...

Luna stepped through space, emerging above and behind the spotted Death Eater, and lashed out with the knife at the back of his neck, Apparating away once more even as a pair of curses flew through the space where she'd been.

The other Order members were advancing and attacking now, Hermione staying slightly behind Moody and Tonks. Luna barely noticed; she was planning on trying to take out all of the Death Eaters herself if she could. She didn't want to lose what few friends she had left, after all.

Luna managed to get behind another Death Eater, and then a third turned right as she attempted to appear behind him. Luna drove her knife into his chest, and his hood fell off, and Luna was truly surprised for the first time in a long while.

She knew that bright, red hair.

"Ronald..?"

"Luna... thank you."

He never had been able to throw off Imperio.

Luna clutched at another friend's corpse, this one at her own hands, and forgot the world around her. She barely noticed Hermione approaching her once the rest of the battle had cleared, or Moody and Malfoy dead at each other's feet, or Tonks, murdered with a killing curse by the final Death Eater, mere seconds before Hermione brought him down.

* * *

Luna had allowed Hermione to take her home, and had gone through the motions of living, but she really hadn't much to live for. The Wizarding community, and indeed to a lesser degree that of the muggles, was dead in England, and Luna could not bear to leave. She stayed inside, in her childhood home, feigned as much interest as she could manage, and barely prevented herself from starving to death, attempting to live off of conjured food and drink.

And then, one day, Hermione came and offered hope. And whether that hope led to a second chance or just to the next adventure, Luna decided that anything was better than staying where she was.


End file.
